No Words
by rachelalala
Summary: Modern day AU. "Katniss can recall with vivid imagery the look of horror on the blond's face as he, basked in the golden light of his previously-thought private bedroom, locked his now open and now very aware sky blues on her crumpled form outside his bedroom window." Katniss Everdeen is in big trouble, and Peeta Mellark might be able to save her.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, wonderful readers! So, I'm not sure if this will be a two-shot or what, but please feel free to review or whatever to let me know what you think.**

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Katniss Everdeen is in trouble. She cannot process why, but she knows she is in trouble.

In fact, Katniss Everdeen cannot process a single thought, as her mind instead gives reins to her body, allowing it to speed walk – okay, _run_ – away, whilst sweating, blushing, amongst other things.

Those other things not even she will admit to.

The fact that her mind is at a complete impasse is thanks to the past childhood development in which many times acting on instinct was preferable to processing reality and to the more present image of a very dear Peeta Mellark doing… things.

Things not even she will think of.

So, instead of thinking, she speed walks – runs – until she is safely in her car, driving to her house – not home, her house – and pacing the dusty floors of her bedroom until there is nothing left to do but think. And thinking means a shower.

The teenager crosses the small house to the measly bathroom she shares with her mother and sister to turn the shower on with hot water, strips her faded clothes off and into the hamper, and steps under the thankfully strong water pressure. Shampoo. Conditioner. Body wash. Shave? Fine.

A deep breath of the steam and relaxing aroma of orange blossom body wash lure her thoughts to replaying the events of the afternoon, from which her conundrum manifested in the first place.

As ordinary as any other Thursday night, Katniss closed the Bass Pro Shop she had been working at most of the year – thank you, 15 percent off archery equipment – and walked past the narrow tree line to the adjacent neighborhood Johanna Mason resided in to pay her friend a visit before being forced to face the stuffy, empty, lonely, not-a-home house. But then the visit was over, and Katniss was walking back through the modest houses, hands stuck in her pockets, considering when she should start that English paper, and why does Ms. Bauman have to freak out over – and she looks up at her name, and all thought eludes Katniss.

Sweat-matted curls. Curious frown closing the deep blue eyes. And strong hand gripping and dragging smooth, thick skin up, slowly, accompanied by the ragged breath, uttered profanity, deep voice moaning _her_ name. And unawares of the young man, her blush, her lip bitten down, her uncontrollable and urgent gray gaze. The first experience of warm wetness between clenching thighs as her heart seemed to match the pace of a freaking helicopter. Suddenly, she had an urge to swallow the excess saliva and an even bigger urge to get the hell out before he saw her. And then the step back turned into a stumble back as her foot caught on her damnation, thus causing the fall, the yelp, the exposure, and ultimately, her perdition.

Katniss can recall with vivid imagery the look of horror on the blond's face as he, basked in the golden light of his previously-thought private bedroom, locked his now open and now very aware sky blues on her crumpled form outside his bedroom window, highlighted against the night's background by his own bedroom's bright light. To make matters worse – if that could be possible – the open bedroom window provided no barrier against the unbearably awkward silence the experience produced or the pronounced sound of a fly being handled and tennis shoes scuffling the battered alleyway. Or the echoes of her name in her ears.

Now, mind and body reconnect as Katniss comes to terms with the undeniable warm tautness in her lower belly and the more urgent crave to lower her hand to scratch her itch, so to speak.

Shoot, she is in big trouble.

* * *

Peeta Mellark is in trouble. Fuck, he is in a shitload of trouble.

A whirlwind of thoughts attack him as his eyes remain fixed on the alleyway between his and his neighbor's homes, specifically the part of the alleyway wherein the love of his freaking life just saw him jerking off, moaning _her freaking name_. Although his eyes and entire body cannot move, let alone process a single thing other than the fading sound of her sprinting away, horrified probably, his mind is on overdrive with thoughts of his imminent doom – fuck, _imminent_? Immediate doom!

What should he do? What could he say? His mind begs him to yell after her, to find her now and explain, but his stubborn mouth refuses to utter a sound, let alone stop gaping. His legs will not move, his hand is even still on his jean button – thank God he had the motor skills to at least cover himself up in front of her – you know, after about five full seconds after his discovery of her and who-knows-how-long after she first started watching him.

How did she start watching him anyway? Yeah, maybe he likes to keep the window open and the curtains are always carelessly thrown open, but for fuck's sake his neighbor isn't exactly someone he needs to be cautious of and it's not like people always show up at his bedroom window for a conversation. Did she show up there on purpose? Well, it doesn't matter now, considering the hellhole he just dug for himself. Now instead of catching his eye in the hallways at school, she will probably be glaring at him during every given opportunity, whilst telling everyone about the perverted Peeta Mellark jacking off for the entire neighborhood to hear.

Slowly, Peeta's body comes back to him, and the realization of the tears streaming down his pale face cements the fact that he had seriously just ruined any chance of Katniss Everdeen ever talking to him, let alone liking him or fulfilling the fantasy he had conjured about a half hour ago. Now, all thought is centered on what sadistic future is ready for him in the face of a disgusted Katniss, on a future of disgust from his only love. He lowers his head into his hands as his body is racked with sobs.

He just fucked himself over into a shitload of trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

**So sorry I haven't updated in a while. Super busy past few weeks. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I had some trouble with where to lead this story, but I've decided to make it a relatively short multi-chapter story. I hope you enjoy!**

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After that night, everything changes, yet stays the same. Life goes on as usual, classes are attended, Katniss works at Bass Pro Shop, Peeta bakes at Mellark's Bakery, and no one suspects a thing. However, both teenagers' thoughts are stirred with new feelings, largely consisting of guilt, curiosity, and longing.

Katniss focuses on work, school, and every other responsibility within her reach while avoiding the baker's son at all costs.

On the other hand, Peeta's thoughts are consumed with Katniss, and what she thinks of him, and how she is feeling, and what she is doing, and if he should talk to her, but never finds the nerve to approach her. After all, she is intimidating enough without the reminder of the events of the past night, so if he was too cowardly to speak to her before, what could he do now? At least she spares him the scowls he had suspected.

In fact, she spares him of just about everything. Katniss Everdeen is not a gossiper. She pretty much only talks to about five people, two of which are her family. So the absence of school gossip about that night is not too much of a shocker, but Peeta is still eternally grateful for her silence. Still, he doesn't care much about others' opinions in comparison to her opinion. And presently, her opinion of him is probably pretty low. Okay, extremely low.

These thoughts plague him now, as he sits in sex-ed, watching her at her desk one row and column over, a little too close for comfort in this embarrassing class. _Why_ do they have to have this class together, of all classes offered at this school? Maybe because it's a pretty small school, or maybe because God has a special hatred for him, he doesn't know. The only benefit of sitting so close behind her is the fact that he can openly stare at her without being too obvious. So that's what he's doing now, despite the fact that even looking at her brings on even more guilt and longing he is already dealing with.

Coach Adams walks to the closest desk and passes the student there a box of – oh, _fuck_ a box of condoms! Seriously, can Peeta's life be more humiliating? His mom does a plenty good job of making him feel like a speck of dust, but now he has to practice putting a condom on a banana right next to Katniss Everdeen. Luckily, he is slightly out of her view.

The box is passed to Katniss, and after selecting a ripe banana and red condom, turns around to pass the basket back, resulting in her locking eyes with Peeta. The two immediately look away, blushing profusely, and – in Peeta's case – wishing to just disappear from the world or at least this completely awkward situation.

Eventually, the box is passed to Peeta, and the class begins the task of condom application. _What is the point of this anyway_, Peeta thinks. _Pretty sure about half the class has already used a condom, and the other half can get the gist_.

After effectively giving his banana sufficient protection, Peeta glances up to see Katniss's work. She seems to be clumsily rolling the condom on with the rubber stretched over the banana. Peeta really didn't want Coach Adams to embarrass her by correcting her condom skills in front of the class. She's had enough embarrassment over sex-related things for the month. For her life, really. And he has too. So Peeta decides to spare them of the condom advice and hopes Coach Adams doesn't care enough to inspect everyone's work.

But apparently, Cato cares enough. "Hey Katniss. Want me to give you a hand with that?" he says suggestively. He even has the gall to slowly lick his bottom lip as if it's the sexiest thing in the world.

"I think you've used your hand enough, Cato," she replies, blushing slightly. The _nerve_ of this boy.

"I'm always ready when a lady needs assistance. I'm good with lessons."

"I don't need lessons."

"You don't, Katniss? Do you take care of it yourself?"

Her head whips toward him with a fierce blush reddening her glare. Is he _insinuating_ something? She is so shocked she can't think of a threatening response.

"Cato, I think your banana is getting lonely. You want to do the assignment before Coach asks you to do it in front of him?" Peeta tries to distract the boy. If Cato has to bother Katniss like that again, he won't be able to keep a lighthearted voice for much longer. Plus, the thought of Katniss taking care of herself is not something he should be thinking about right now.

Cato turns around to face Peeta in his adjacent desk and pat his should as if they are friends. "You're a good man, Mellark. Always looking out for everyone like the golden boy you are. But you don't have to distract me from your girl. I see what you're doing," he laughs. "Don't worry, I'll let you have her." And with that, he turns around to expertly apply his condom, smiling to himself at the awkwardness and embarrassment he thrust on the two with his seemingly harmless joke.

Katniss and Peeta simultaneously turn their heads to lock eyes with both mouths hanging open and both sets of cheeks flushing red. Peeta, at a desperate attempt to show his apology or convey the fact that he _definitely_ has not told Cato that she's his _girl_, starts shaking his head and breathes in to say… _something_, before Coach Adams interrupts the stutter with, "Katniss, it looks like you didn't leave any room for the ejaculation on your banana. Make sure to leave a little space; it's pretty important," he says almost bitterly. Katniss gives him her classic scowl with a touch of confusion this time, before he continues, "Here's another condom; be sure to leave about a half-inch worth of space. Here, look at Peeta's. Excellent job, Peeta. See how he left room for the ejaculate? Try again. You can use Peeta's as a model. You can help her out if she needs it, Peeta."

Uh, what? He looks in panic again at Katniss. She refuses to meet his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sure Peeta would be happy to give Katniss a hand, Coach Adams. You're pretty good with your hands, aren't you Peet?" Cato turns around to give Peeta a highly amused grin, as if these jokes are just hilarious, and Coach Adams won't hear any insinuation at all.

Luckily, Coach ignores the comment and continues his walk around the classroom. Katniss, ignoring both staring boys, pulls the condom off and rips open the new package.

"Oh! You forgot to tie it off! You are inexperienced, aren't you? You know, I happen to be very skilled with virgins –"

"Cato! Shut the fuck up! You're not funny, she's not interested, and you're being fucking annoying as usual –" Peeta starts, getting angrier by the second.

"Oh! Relax, Lover Boy! You do like her, don't you? Or do you just want to fuck a virgin so –"

Peeta rises so quickly while raising his arm, that no one has the time to do anything before his fist slams down onto Cato's cheek, causing the boy to fly back toward his desk before getting up to retaliate with a punch thrown toward Peeta's face. The wrestler has expected as much, and dodges the blow before landing another hit right on Cato's jaw, sending the boy back into the desks, stumbling right into Coach Adam's arms. Coach immediately turns off teacher mode and gets Cato in an arm lock before throwing him away from Peeta, who finally comes to his senses with the realization that he just got into a fight at school in front of his wresting coach in Katniss's honor.

"You boys think you can fight in my classroom!? Huh? You think that makes you tough? Huh? Answer me, Mellark, Goodwin!"

"No, sir," the boys muttered in unison. Cato shoots Peeta a glare from behind Coach's back.

"Well apparently you do! Why don't you show me how tough you are these next few days, huh? Get to Hindman's office now, and if I hear anything from you down the hall, I will make your lives hell. Mellark, I will see you tonight at practice, and Goodwin, I will personally find Coach Wyatt and let him know what happened. You boys think you can fight in my classroom… Get to Ms. Hindman's office now!" Coach stands there, panting and red-faced, as he watches the two boys walk out of the room together.

Apparently he seems to realize he is in a classroom full of sixteen year olds as well and maybe cursed in front of them, for he turns toward the class with a sheepish yet angry look and says, "Sorry for that, class." He clears his throat. "Um, looks like times about up. Just throw away your condoms and put the bananas back in the basket." He awkwardly walks toward his desk and starts typing on his computer, probably to email the principal and football coach, and whoever else to punish the boys.

Katniss sits in her desk, still shocked and staring ahead where Coach had just been standing.

Had that really just happened? It was all so fast. Cato was being a jerk, she was focusing on her embarrassment and stupid condom, and then Peeta punched him, and Coach freaked out, and now here she is. What the hell? Had Peeta just hit Cato in her defense? He was always so good-natured. He was the mediator who keeps things peaceful with humor and golden boy smiles. She has never seen or heard of Peeta acting anything like that. He was completely possessed with anger. And so tense. Cato, on the other, hand… She's not surprised he reacted so quickly.

Katniss looks down at the banana she is still gripping with all her strength. The condom is only half on.

She takes a deep breath as the bell rings, signaling her release, and it takes all her mental capacities to get out of her chair, grab her backpack, and throw away the ruined banana before walking out of the room.

Peeta Mellark, the boy with the bread, just fought Cato Goodwin in her defense. This boy does too much for her. How is it that she has not ever said a single word to a guy she has known since preschool, yet he has had such an effect on her life? And she owes him so much, yet she has not thanked him, let alone returned the favor at all. On top of that, she humiliated him the other night, and has yet to apologize. Not that she's the apologizing type, but she could have done something. She still can do something. But what?

Katniss continues to her locker in a daze. _I wonder what he's going through right now?_ she thinks. It was obvious from Coach Adams's comment that he'll be getting something of a physical punishment during wrestling practice. He'll probably get detention too. Would he be suspended? He only hit Cato because he was being a jerk as usual. Cato really had it coming. Peeta doesn't deserve this. He's going through this for her. First it was the bread, then the humiliation of the other night, and now this. He doesn't deserve any of this. She's not worth it.

Katniss isn't very good with thanking or apologizing to people, but she'll do something for him. She'd actually do a lot for the boy with the bread.

* * *

**PS, the bread story I sort of mentioned will be slightly different from the one in the book!**


	3. Chapter 3

**First, I just want to say thank you so much for reading through this story! Every review/favorite/follow means a ton to me! With that said, I really wish I could write more often, but I really don't have any time this semester - things are busy busy busy and free time to me means a nap. But it's spring break so I'm going to try to get one more chapter out before Sunday - don't hold me to that - if I can find inspiration. Yeah about that - I have no idea where this story is going. I have ideas, but nothing too great. So I'm just happy you're along for the ride :)**

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A sense of déjà vu overwhelms Katniss as she meanders back to the Bass Pro Shop's parking lot from her most recent trip to Johanna's house. After _that night_, Katniss had resorted to driving the extremely close distance to her friend's so as not to risk another encounter with a certain neighbor whom lives across the street. Not that walking a ridiculously mapped detour wouldn't fix her problem, but she figured she didn't need a visual to remind her of something she already thinks of constantly. But it's been weeks since the incident, and it's not like golden boy is going to pop up in every alleyway she detours. And gas prices are high.

And it's a beautiful day. The sun is shining, there's a slight breeze, and the weather is warm for early March. Katniss takes a deep breath and lets the hyperawareness escape her as the warm air fills her lungs with the first hints of spring air. The smell of primroses and freshly cut grass fills her senses while she walks along the sidewalk unawares of the source of the smell.

That is, until her head snaps to the side with the recognition of exactly whose house she is walking in front of at precisely the same moment _his_ head snaps towards hers and blue locks on gray. Each comes to a standstill and appraises one another from a distance of only about ten yards whilst mentally preparing for the next move in the tryst.

Being the golden boy and all, Peeta is the first to break the silence as he slowly, almost cautiously, raises his hand to wave, smiles, and says, "Hey Katniss."

He lets go of the lawn mower to jog over to the huntress, both all too aware of his sweaty, shirtless state. Katniss, still slightly in shock from the waylaying, takes in his form slowly. Shirtless, sweaty Peeta. Out mowing the lawn in the sun. He has chest hair. She's never really liked chest hair. Never exactly considered it, because really why would she consider it, but his looks… nice. Very nice. Especially now since his skin is kind of shiny from the sweat and sun. Yeah….

"Hey," he breathes, coming to a stop right in front of her.

Slowly, Katniss lifts her eyes to Peeta's and realizes she's just been staring at his chest hair. He definitely thinks she's a freak now. _Snap out of it._

"Hey," she replies. He's panting.

"Hi."

Their eyes never lose contact.

"I was just at my friend's house."

"Johanna?" Shit, he's probably not supposed to know who her friends are.

"Yeah."

Her breaths start to match his as the hyperawareness of his state of undress does not lessen. Their eyes still have not lost contact.

Peeta takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his sweat-dampened curls as he glances away. He begins in a low, rusty voice, "Look, Katniss." He pauses to look back into her eyes with a new intensity. He really can't look away. She is beautiful. "I'm sorry." The statement hangs in the air with their heavy breaths. "I'm so sorry about that night. It was wrong of me to do anything like that. And to have my window open… It was stupid of me. I didn't know anyone would be around. Especially _you_. And then that stupid fight. It shouldn't have happened; I was impulsive. Cato's just such a _dick_, and I couldn't let him say something like that to you. I know you probably think I'm some kind of pervert now and –"

"Peeta –"

"– I don't expect you to forgive me or ever really think anything of me –"

"Peeta, don't –"

"– No, it's okay, Katniss, I just want –"

"I liked it!"

Silence envelopes them as her statement registers to the both of them. Her eyes widen as the full weight of her outburst registers in her hairy-chest-glistening-abs-blue-eyes-muddled mind, and she pivots only to immediately be pulled back to the sight of his gawking expression by a large hand enveloping her elbow.

"Liked what?" he whispers.

"What?" she squeaks.

"Katniss – what did you like?" his eyes read desperation as he slowly releases her elbow and instead holds her hostage with his stare.

She pauses for almost a full thirty seconds. Thirty excruciating seconds. "You… said my name."

The intensity of the moment confirms the statement's reference is not from this conversation. He said her name _that night_.

There is a brief hesitation. Then he nods shallowly.

"Why," she breathes.

Desperation turns to beseeching as his eyes search hers. "You know why."

Her eyes search his for confirmation, but she already knows the answer. It's the same reason she's been dealing with the past few weeks – ever since that night. The image of him, sweaty curls, tight abs, strong hand on hard length has been in her head every night since then. _Every_ night. Her eyes flick down to his chest and back up to his eyes.

The question is how he even _noticed_ her. After knowing and hearing about Peeta Mellark for her entire school career, she's never _thought_ about him until a few weeks ago, thought about him in the way he seems to think about her. But, she's never thought about anyone, _ever_. Maybe she's just behind in this aspect of her life, like she is in every other social aspect of her life. Well, now she's aware of him, and aware of herself in a new way, and aware of his thoughts. About her.

"Peeta!" the shriek efficiently breaks the silence as both jump and turn to find Mrs. Mellark standing on the front porch, one hip jutting out as she fixes her youngest son with a glare. "I asked you to mow the lawn, so _mow the damn lawn_! I ask you to do one thing for me – one thing! You can say goodbye to your friend. And start on the bushes when you're done." And with that, the Mellark matriarch makes her way back into the air-conditioned house to nurse her headache with an iced tea.

Peeta turns back to face Katniss. His eyes show defeat as he bows his head, still not breaking eye contact, and parts with, "See you around, Katniss."

The defeat is not from his mother, she realizes. It's from her.

Quickly, impulsively, she grabs his arm, cups his face in the other hand, and crashes her mouth to his. The kiss is hard, hungry, and rough as her lips move relentlessly against his and his give just as much back. He has just raised his hand to her face, ready to deepen the kiss further, bring their bodies fully together, feel more of her, when she abruptly breaks the kiss, only to bring her lips directly to his ear. "I think about you too."

With that, Katniss is down the alleyway, gone except for the phantom lips still on his ear, his lips.

After a solid two minutes of staring down the grassy alley she just disappeared through, Peeta slowly makes his way to the old lawn mower and resumes the tedious chore of grass cutting. Through every cut blade, every trimmed bush, the smile never leaves his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone! So I think I figured out what this story is going to be about! About time, right? I know you guys are not blind, but just warning you this is rated M.**

**By the way, aren't you proud of me?! I got the next chapter out in less than a week!**

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"WHAT? FUCKING WHAT?!" Johanna screams at her friend for yet another time. The behavior is not abnormal for the dark-haired beauty, but the volume does not fail to concern Katniss despite the privacy the large bedroom offers.

Katniss Everdeen previously came to the conclusion that she is in over her head considering the complete inexperience she holds with everything concerning Peeta Mellark. The assessment led her to essentially call an SOS, resulting in the meeting now being held in the mayor's daughter's room between her closest yet polar opposite friends. Meaning, right now Johanna is losing her shit whilst Madge is giving Katniss a look of genuine concern.

"Why did you run, Katniss? He probably –" Madge starts.

"Hell, if you're going to run, you should have run back to my place!" Johanna interjects. "No, the real question is why you didn't fucking tell us about this in the first fucking place!"

Guilt overcomes Katniss as she is reminded of the secrets she is still purposefully keeping from her closest friends. The night that started it all and the few words said after the kiss are still very much undisclosed and will stay that way. Not that Katniss has any right to tell Madge and Jo about _that night_. She wouldn't embarrass him, and she does not gossip – this meeting is more of a therapy anyway. As for yesterday's confession, her words are too private and embarrassing for even her two confidants. "It was _yesterday_, Jo. And I don't know – I just freaked out I guess."

"The _fight_ wasn't yesterday, and you're only telling us it was about you _today_. Jesus, what I would give to see those two boys fighting over me. Mm." She adopts a faint far-off look in her eyes, as if daydreaming about Peeta and Cato fighting for her attention.

"They weren't fighting over me. Just fighting because Cato's a jerk."

"A hot jerk. Anyways, what are you going to do about Lover Boy?"

At this, Katniss is stumped. "I don't know. I think he likes me."

"No _shit_, Brainless."

"You really don't have to cuss so much, Johanna," Madge pipes up, then turns to her best friend with encouraging eyes. "I think you should talk to him. It does sound like he cares about you."

The simple suggestion wasn't exactly ground-breaking advice, but talking really is all she can do. The unfamiliarity of the situation leaves Katniss feeling nervous and lost, feelings she is both inexperienced and uncomfortable with. The problem is that words are not her forte. She needs to do something to rectify the situation, thus turning this complicated relationship into something else. What that something else is, she does not know.

"So, Brainless… Is he a good kisser?"

Both gray and blue eyes snap to brown, and Madge erupts in laughter as Katniss burns deep red.

"What, it's an honest question. Was there tongue?"

In all her blushing pride, the huntress directs a glare at her friend. "I'm leaving if you don't stop."

"Wait, no I have to know too! It's a good question," Madge says.

"I have to go to work."

"Don't be such a prude, Brainless. We just need one word!"

"I'm leaving."

"Fuck, Brainless, please!"

"Goodbye!"

"Katniss!"

Katniss spares one glance over her shoulder as she pauses at the bedroom door. "Yes." And with that, Katniss heads toward her car for another shift at Bass Pro Shop.

"YES TO WHICH QUESTION?! FUCK, KATNISS!"

The five-hour shift at the outdoors shop passes quickly as Katniss is distracted by thoughts of the boy with the bread. Well, man. She knows he's a man.

Katniss realizes that, ironically, she was in the same predicament not two days ago, but the effort she made to remedy their situation has only left their confusing relationship all the more confusing. And awkward. Obviously, she shouldn't have run away. The only benefit of the rendezvous yesterday is the fact that the air has been cleared between the two so that each knows the other's standpoint. Now, the situation leaves the two at a standoff; who makes the first move, and exactly what is that move?

_I can't just ask him to please fuck me already_, she thinks wryly. Although, once she thinks about the suggestion, it doesn't seem so bad. He wants her, she wants him. The image of him touching himself has replayed in her head too many times to count, to the extent that she needs something more of him to quench the increasing desire she is now too familiar with.

Her shift is over. The air outside is muggy and warm, depicting her emotions fairly well. Her stride slows as a thought occurs that may be crazy or stupid or perfect. His house is so close. Really only a two-minute walk. Johanna must be rubbing off on her, she thinks, as her legs turn her away from the parking lot and toward the nearby neighborhood that houses the boy – man – with the bread to similarly act to get what she wants despite the lack of thoughtful consideration and excess of sheer foolishness.

Her power-walk to the baker's house dwindles to a snail's pace as she questions the stupidity of her actions. Maybe she's caught some sort of disease that affects her sexuality and decision-making, or maybe she's just caught up with every other girl who has noticed Peeta Mellark but in a more severe manner. She doesn't care, however, when she approaches the house to discover the baker's youngest must be home, for he has his light on, and his window _still open_. Does this boy not learn?

Katniss treads with care for her noise, not wanting a repeat of that night's disaster in case he happens to be doing something else not meant for her eyes. Slowly, the hunter creeps along the house's white wall, and so slowly, she leans her head so that she can get a clear shot of the brightly lit room. There sits Peeta Mellark, slumped against his pillows while reading – thankfully just reading – the newest book the AP English class has been assigned.

Katniss composes herself as she plans to talk to him. If she turns back now, she knows she would be too cowardly to approach him again, and she would just reach a whole new level of creepy if she just leaves after getting her dose of the image of Peeta Mellark. No, she came here to make things right, not intrude on his privacy further.

With a deep breath, she raises her fist to knock on the open window, causing him to look up in surprise, as if he is imagining the vision of Katniss actually approaching him, rather than sprinting away for once. It's understandable; she has been running from him lately, although it is mostly an unintentional instinct.

With a small half smile and a smaller "hey" in greeting, Katniss leans further into the window to gauge the boy's reaction.

Convinced that he is in fact not hallucinating, Peeta stands to make his way to the window, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. "Hey…?" He reaches the window, plants his hands on the ledge, and leans in to make eye contact. "Do you have something against using doors or…?"

"Do you have something against closing your window?" She retorts.

At this, he lets out a booming laugh, the kind that comes from his belly and just fills his body with happiness. "Sorry, but I don't usually expect people to come by my window for a chat."

With a roll of her eyes she replies, "So are you not going to let me in then?"

"Oh, come in!" He steps back to make room for her to hop in, graceful as ever. "The door isn't the best idea anyway; I'm not allowed to have friends over right now. Or for like the next two months."

"Oh, right the fight! You really didn't have to do anything; I'm used to Cato being a jerk. But thank you. Any other punishments I should know about?" She says thinking of the threat from Coach Adams and the looks from Cato.

"Just detention, which is more like just hanging out with Ms. Hindman and a few people for an hour every day. They didn't want to suspend me right before state," he says with a smug smile. The school is a little too proud of its wrestling team sometimes, but now Katniss couldn't be more grateful for the ridiculous lengths it goes through to ensure another victory at state.

Suddenly self-aware, Katniss realizes she and Peeta are enjoying an easy banter devoid of awkward pauses, embarrassed blushes, and even disastrous, masturbation-involving escapades. This never happens, besides the crazy escapades part. She also realizes they are currently sitting on his bed together. When did that happen?

Sensing the shift in her mood, Peeta's easy-going smile is replaced by a look of genuine concern. "Katniss. Let me just say, I like you. A lot. I'm just kind of confused. One minute you're kissing me and the next you're running away from me." Slowly, he moves his hand just so his little finger touches hers. "I just need to know if it's true. If what you did… what you said is true."

And with that, Peeta's heart is off his sleeve and in her hands. With one sentence – one _word_ – she can crush it, or she can take it.

She doesn't know this though. She has his heart, has a good grip on it, but she thinks he's purely – or not so purely – on her level.

"It's true. I think about you," she whispers.

He gulps. "What do you think?"

"Just… you. And… what you were doing…."

His heartbeat is racing. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What else?" Their faces are so close.

"Just…" She looks up at him, asking permission.

He grants it.

"I think about your cock."

He takes in a shaky breath. His pupils are huge.

"I think about your cock inside me, in my mouth. I can't stop thinking about it. I need to feel you inside me –"

His mouth is on hers, hungry and hard. His tongue dives into her mouth, stroking, feeling everything, and hers fights back, wanting to taste all of him. He doesn't give the power up though; he has wanted her for years, and he can't resist every primal instinct so he relentlessly tongues every bit of her mouth, tastes her, bites her. He needs her to show him how much she wants him though, so eventually he lets her into his mouth, lets her show him how much she wants him. His fingers are fully covering hers now, still just laying there, his attentions too preoccupied with her mouth, but his other hand is gripping her head, trying to pull them closer, feel her better.

With a gasp for air, Katniss breaks the kiss, panting for breath. Her eyes lock on Peeta's, gray on blue, as she experiences a need so consuming that she feels uncomfortable sitting so still. With a subtle shift, her nipples rub against her bra, her lower torso tightens in anticipation, and the ridiculous amount of wetness soaks through her underwear. Her eyes flicker down to his crotch, and she really, really does want him in her.

"Peeta… I'm not really experienced. At all."

His expression doesn't change, eyes still locked onto hers.

Obviously he doesn't get the hint. "Can you… show me?" She nods down to hint at what she wants.

Not too many emotions register with the blond as he is too consumed with desire to feel anything else. That was a fucking hot kiss.

"Uh, we should probably take it slow," his brain tells him to say. His dick says otherwise.

"Yeah," she agrees, still breathing hard. "But, um. I mean, I've already seen you… you know. By yourself. Can I watch?"

If the notion were possible, Peeta would get even harder listening to her words. She wants to watch him jerk off? In the state of mind he is in after that kiss, he would do just about anything she asks of him right now. In fact, he would always do anything for her, kiss or not. His eyes search hers – they can't leave hers – and he realizes she does in fact want to watch him jerk off. She thinks it's hot. Throughout all of his fantasizing about her, he never pegged her for someone so… kinky. Is this kinky? If so, he likes it.

"Yeah, okay," he replies.

Katniss smiles and subtly licks her lips. Fuck, she is hot.

Eyes never leaving hers, Peeta scoots further onto the bed and begins unzipping his pants. He really is not going to last long. He wonders if she'll reciprocate the favor…?

A harsh rapping on the door startles both of them out of the hazy fog. "Peeta!"

Peeta's wide eyes on Katniss's let her know that is in fact his mother, and she is in fact about to come in his room. "Hide!" He mouths.

Immediately, Katniss is out the window, so fast he would think she was prepared for his mother walking in the room.

The door is open and there is Mrs. Mellark with her hands placed on her hips, as expected. "I heard voices. You know you are not allowed to see anybody."

"I was reading to myself." He indicates the book he picked up. "It's for school."

The glare she gave him said she did not believe him. No surprise there. As if she just _knew_, Mrs. Mellark heads towards the open window and looks out for any sign of teenagers hiding from the matriarch. Fuck, he is about to start apologizing fast, when she turns around and admonishes Peeta with, "How many times do I have to tell you to close your window? Anybody could just walk by and see it. It's dangerous."

He barely manages to suppress his smirk at her words.

She walks briskly to the door and parts with a "Try to keep it down."

The slam of the door is welcome. Immediately, Peeta gets up to look out his window. Nothing. "Katniss?" He softly calls out.

A few seconds later and there she is – she always was a fast runner. Peeta smiles down at her and she smiles up at him.

"I should probably go. I think you've gotten into enough trouble over me for a while."

"We can just be really quiet."

"We can?" She teases with a wide smirk on her face.

He loves it when she smiles. "Maybe not. So I guess I'll see you in sex-ed?"

Suddenly, sex-ed has a whole new meaning. Mr. Mellark, meet your star pupil, Katniss Everdeen.

"See you in sex-ed."

Peeta leans down to kiss her goodbye. All of this kissing yet he knows he will never tire of it; each kiss of theirs feels different, means something different. This kiss speaks of longing and promises and more to come.


End file.
